


eosphorus

by Noctvms



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Wingfic, probably the wingfic you're looking for, this started out as a drabble and ended with an entire wing culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 01:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20716127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noctvms/pseuds/Noctvms
Summary: A retelling of Code Geass's storyline in which some people have been blessed with wings."Lelouch’s wings were beautiful. It was less than an opinion, could not even be called an observation, it was simply fact.The soft clinging of amethysts followed his every step and purple brilliance littered the sky. Knightmares weren't needed for a blessed flying prince.Zero didn't have wings."





	eosphorus

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as a drabble since I just wanted to gush about thinking of Lelouch with pitch black wings with purple details and then I thought of like Julius Kingsley amethysts dangling down his wings and well this thing is 10k so I think we all know where this went. 
> 
> This will be rewritten at some point as I'm not entirely happy with everything but for now please enjoy (:

Lelouch’s wings were beautiful. It was less than an opinion, could not even be called an observation, it was simply fact.  
Suzaku did not understand how neither Nunnally nor Lelouch had been discovered with Lelouch’s wings being like that. The royal family had always been blessed with quite large wings, yet their size was not what made them impressive. The Chinese people had a tendency for even taller, wider wings yet that wasn’t what could even come close to being called Lelouch’s aerial flagship. 

A majority of Japanese people carried a gene that made their wings a greyish white, with some exceptions, mostly from pureblood Japanese families: being fully snow-like white.  
Britannians were colorful, Shirley’s wings were a soft green, they might have even called for attention if they had been larger than they were. They just brushed her thighs.  
Rivalz’s wings were a dull blue. Those were quite common for Britannians: blue.  
Viceroy Cornelia’s wings were grey. They bored, truthfully. They carried the telltale violet glow that all royals wore on them yet the ashen wings accompanied by the purple brilliance weren’t as magnificent as other royals’.  
Euphemia was born without wings, so were Milly, Kallen, Lloyd and others. 

Suzaku had wings. He’d never taken any sort of pride in them. They were white. His mother’s branch of the family believed in a myth, one that originated from their original town: six generations ago a baby had been born with broken wings, the few feathers it had were drooping and withering. The child wasn’t crying, its breathing was labored. Back then it was believed that wings provided life force to babies; the family was weeping. Nurses and midwives were frantically trying to save the child when one of the women knocked over a small bottle of milk. The milk soaked the child’s backsides, it’s wings tainted; yet the child suddenly started crying. And the milk remained a stain.  
‘Milk spilled wings’, his mom would call his wings back when she was still alive. Hers had been grey and his father’s, too.

But Lelouch’s, they were nothing like anything he’d ever seen before.  
His wings were pitch black; starting from the root up until the tips of his feathers they resembled a night sky without stars. Even Nunnally’s wings lost shine once her feathers opened but Lelouch’s didn’t. The shafts and barbs all had the same color.  
Crown Prince Odysseus’s wings were also black, yet his shafts were grey and his barbs lost even more intensity.  
For Lelouch, it was along the ridges, where one layer of feathers met another that a shift in color happened. Violet was the royal color. Every single royal who possessed wings had a certain shade of purple entwined into them.  
Guinevere had cedar colored wings. Deep in her roots a telltale periwinkle spoke of her royal lineage. Odysseus lower tips were a deep magenta. Schneizel was rare: his wings were white littered with purple spots. It seemed as if someone has spilled numerous glasses of lavender paint at random over his wings, yet it looked wonderful. White was rare for Britannians but not unheard of, the gene was not exclusive to Japan after all. 

For Lelouch the purple was worked into his edges. Violet, an exact copy of his eye color, had been woven into them. The violet was more noticeable at the roots, as lots of feathers overlapped there and grew duller once working outward, yet they somehow resembled veins. On the inward side of his wings the violet nearly glittered, it happened on occasion, a rare genetic mutation. A mutation that Nunnally, too, carried. On the outward side, the purple streaks resembled a flow of blood: branched yet bending in a natural manner. Feathers were more ruffled outward and it showed. Long lines of purple worked themselves to the tips of his wings, turns and crooks they would take and purple veined wings appeared.  
When Lelouch walked the very lowest layer of his wings would bend and glissade over the ground. 

Suzaku could distinctly remember an instance when Lelouch was ten where he absentmindedly mentioned having that layer cut off. Suzaku had immediately yelled out a fierce “No!”. Lelouch had seemed slightly taken aback and simply brushed it off as a fleeting thought, and ‘besides, Suzaku, we don’t even have the money to go to a professional cutter’. 

Purple was nearly unheard of when it came to anyone other than the royal family. An extremely small select percentage of the world population had purple in their wings without being royalty. And even then there was certainty that they were of royal descent in some way: may it be as a legitimate child or a kicked out bastard.  
When Suzaku had asked Lelouch over tea how other people reacted to his wings he shrugged and said how everyone always asks him if he’s royalty. He’d usually reply that no, he doesn’t have any ties to the royal family and he is simply an extremely far off descendant from the royal lineage. For the more sleuthlike-minded individuals he’d even created a story about a bastard great-great-great-grandfather who had been kicked out of the family. Age too old and disgrace too undocumented no one could prove otherwise. 

Lelouch rarely flew, an effortless task seen as too futile when compared to simply walking, an activity which required quite less energy than the aforementioned.  
Suzaku used to fly quite a bit.  
Before the war, before his father, he could vividly remember flying around Lelouch, urging him to join him in the sky. Lelouch was… talented. Flying required a certain technique, a certain way to use every little gust of wind to one’s advantage.  
Suzaku didn’t excel at that; he was quicker, stronger and more nimble yet Lelouch was the one who could sleep on his wings if the winds worked in his favor.  
Suzaku didn’t know whether Lelouch’s aversion of flying had been born out of Nunnally’s inability to do so or due to other unknown reasons. Legs were after all required to not only take off but also to keep balance up in the air and not crash down. Suzaku wouldn’t necessarily call it a shame; Lelouch’s wings were to be lauded, to be seen. Nunnally’s wings were small, maybe even too small to support flying in the first place. That was the case for Cécile, her wings had not grown to be big enough to lift up her weight, she’d never spoken ill of the condition and simply cited that it invigorated her even more towards the creation of flying knightmares. Suzaku saw quite some strength in that.

\----------------------------

Zero didn’t have wings. After his very first initial appearance at Suzaku’s deceit of a trial it couldn’t be seen clearly. The cape had been in the way. Suzaku wondered slightly why it mattered so much but at the same time he understood why.  
The very second time Zero made a public appearance, his figure looming over the hotel, he openly showed off a back without cape. Concurrences had to be made, news outlets discussed it publicly, the lack of wings on the masked man that is. During his little speech he blatantly spoke of the discrimination from winged towards non-winged people. He seemed to speak from experience. ‘The blessed and the non-blessed’, maybe it was even worse than being called ‘Eleven’. Being called ‘non-blessed’ as if a god purposefully tried to spite you. Most of the Black Knights next to the man seemed to be wingless.  
“How unsurprising,” Lloyd had noted. Cécile quickly shushed him as the infantry squad looked in awe at the man before them. It had been as they walked back that Suzaku stopped in his tracks and Lloyd gave a soft hum of acknowledgement that he could ask: “Do you… do you feel any form of support towards him? For non-winged people?” Lloyd seemed merely amused by the question, an emotion akin to childish happiness taking over.  
“But of course! He spoke the right words to the right crowd, why would he not get support?” Lloyd laughed as he overenuciated his words by adding outlandish gestures.  
“Unfortunately for him, I couldn’t care less. These things-,” suddenly Suzaku felt the tips of his feathers being pulled, “-are temporary. And can…” Suzaku felt a soft flicker of pain as a gasp left his mouth and all of a sudden he stood eye to eye with one of his own feathers.  
“Fail,” Lloyd finished. 

\----------------------------

Back when they were kids Suzaku had always assumed Lelouch would be an exemplary student: history, French, math, biology, it seemed as if for each and every subject he had acquired a taste, and by god was it a dish Suzaku detested no matter what spices were added. Yet, now that Suzaku had actually been enrolled to Ashford Academy he found the opposite to be true. Lelouch was a frequent skipper of class, and even if he was present sleep seemed to be the only thing on his mind.  
It’d been a class on political sciences when Suzaku decided to actually join his friend for once. The teacher hadn’t arrived yet and Lelouch wasn’t present in his telltale spot, napping away. Or speaking to Rivalz somewhere in a corner, on the more rare occasion. So Suzaku decided to swiftly let his legs lead him towards the school’s roof before he’d be greeted by an unpleasant run-in with a decidedly grumpy teacher.  
The cool spring air was a nice surprise as he opened the door to the roof and looked around. It seemed deserted. It was only once Suzaku had looked up that he saw Lelouch’s figure floating on said air. Of course the greatest advantage to body length wings was their utility when it came to being hammock stand-ins.  
Suzaku’s own wings only reached up until his knees. Lelouch’s wings had always been used to shield Nunnally back in the day. They were waterproof.

“Hey.”  
Suzaku’s voice seemed to gently rouse the sleeping youth as Lelouch’s eyes made eye contact with Suzaku’s.  
“I’m sleeping.”  
“While flying. What if you’d woken up and the wind had carried you over the building?” Lelouch’s eyes narrowed: “Has never happened before.”  
Suzaku watched as Lelouch patiently waited for the sublime moment the wind would drift off and he could slowly lower himself to the ground.  
“Do you often use the wind to take off and go somewhere else?”  
Lelouch made a sound in between a scoff and a laugh: “Oh please, you know I loathe flying.”  
Suzaku hummed in response yet couldn’t help laugh: “They’re still really pretty, though. Nunnally’s too.”  
He could feel Lelouch joining him next to the railing and turned around, coming face to face with him.  
“Thanks. I heard you dominated your P.E. class though when it came to flying,” Lelouch softly elbowed him and Suzaku chuckled: “Trained soldier, remember? Also, I love flying.”  
“Of course you do, you exercise nut.”  
Lelouch yawned loudly and stretched his arms. Suzaku looked on in awe as he also opened his feathers, their span width reaching to their fullest.  
“Remember when we played fly tag?”  
“I’d rather not, you always won,” Lelouch teased matter of factly. 

A thought that had plagued Suzaku’s mind for a short while suddenly sprung above water as if the past and remembrance regarding Lelouch’s royal lineage had physically pulled it out of there.  
Suzaku bit his lip nervously: “Would you… would you happen to know what princess Euphemia is like?” this did incite a reaction from Lelouch.  
“Yes… I would… why do you ask?”  
“My engineering unit. It was stationed for viceroy Cornelia and apparently princess Euphemia visited, simply curious, she’s your sister, after all.”  
“Wingless,” Lelouch simply answered.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Oh, you know damn well what it means Suzaku.”  
Lelouch rarely peeved off Suzaku, even though he might have acted like it in the past, yet this did set him off for some reason.  
“No I actually don’t.”  
Lelouch sighed: “Charles only accepts blessed children. Cornelia was born and his wife was still good but then a wingless disgrace like Euphemia was born and her mother was cast aside. Simple as that. Kind exterior with a lot of daddy issues most likely inside her.”  
Suzaku could see from the corner of his eye that Lelouch had rolled his eyes, seemingly in annoyance or a form of self-satisfaction, who would know?  
“But… but she was kind, at castle Aries?”  
Suzaku supposes it hadn’t been intended to be heard but yet a soft: “I suppose so,” had left Lelouch’s lips. 

\----------------------------

His hands, suit, wings had been smeared with blood, desperate pleas of “Euphy!” left his lips as Suzaku flew through the massacre. Genocide, it could be called, which had occurred at the hands of the woman he loved. No, at the hands of the man he despised. His wings flew him over the rows upon rows of filled seats, corpses littering the stadium. Fingerprints of lingering screams dirtied his wings.  
The stadium was suffocating, Euphy’s plea to the Japanese to commit suicide so fresh in his mind. Yet her name repeatedly left his lips, a desperate need to find the woman he loved.  
Where was Lancelot?! Where the fuck was Lancelot?!  
Gunshots could be heard from all sides whether offensively or defensively, where was the line between those two? Suzaku’s wings brought him higher and higher until he caught sight of Euphemia.  
She stood close to Zero. Zero had a promise. Zero had a promise to protect her. He promised she’d be treated with-  
Bang.  
Suzaku saw red.

\----------------------------

“Zero!” the yell pierced the air around them. As the masked man slowly turned around.  
A clamor of the same word could be heard only a few feet next to Suzaku. Zero might have replied but only a strained: “Shut the fuck up Kallen! Don’t meddle with this!” echoed in the cave.  
“You killed Euphie!” Suzaku didn’t know whether to receive gratification at the lack of a reply or offense.  
It felt like time stood still as Suzaku seemed to wait for a reply.  
Yet it didn’t come.  
It was with a shout that Suzaku pulled the trigger and felt the ricochet against the gun’s power.  
It happened faster than either of their brains could process. The bullet had been launched into the air and in a split second the cave was engulfed in black. The vociferation of threads being ripped and fabric being torn into pieces filled the air. Suddenly the walls were black, the floor went black, shadows covered the remaining light which the cave’s opening had allowed, even the air overall felt simply solely black.  
And that is when two powerful black wings decelerated the bullet to a mere soft thump against Zero mask.  
Kallen looked on in disbelief. White bandages flew around as if in slow motion, some of them still enwrapped around Zero’s- no -Lelouch’s wings. Blood littered the bandages. The same could be said for the once elegant feathers which were flying around now.  
It was a feeling of relief, nearly pure validation, which came over Suzaku. He had been correct. His suspicions were proven right. Yet betrayal rummaged through his stomach. A painful jab of pure, hot white anger seared through his system. He looked on as the figure in front of him delicately brought his hands up to his mask.  
Suzaku could hear soft whimpering sounds as the mask breathed out and gently came off. Broken sobs of ‘L-Lelouch’ were audible to his right and Suzaku looked on in disgust as the mask was lowered and his best friend’s face appeared.

As if his wings hadn’t been telltale enough.

Zero.  
Zero, the wingless, Japanese savior was a Britannian prince, a blessed one, one of the most blessed ones to ever step out of the Britannian royal house. Being the only child of emperor Charles to actually inherit the veins of his father into his wings.  
Zer- Lelouch seemed displeased; his face had already been contorted into a general look of annoyance, a look of boredom even. His wings slowly opened and yet again Suzaku was greeted by the twelve feet width of pure dark feathers. The purple brilliance of Lelouch’s wings seemed to be sole thing illuminating the space for a short while.  
Suzaku could faintly hair the thud of Kallen’s knees hitting the rocks.  
“I didn’t want it to be you,” Suzaku bit out.  
Lelouch’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint accompanying his violet eyes: “Yes, I am Zero — the man who leads the Black Knights, who challenges the Holy Britannian Empire, the one who holds the entire world in his hand.”  
It was Kallen now who spoke up, her voice sounding angry, broken and betrayed: “You used us… the Japanese people…? You used me?!”  
Lelouch nearly seemed amused by this, a chuckle playing on his lips: “And as a result, Japan will be freed. You certainly can’t complain about that.”  
“But you have wings!” Kallen yelled. It wasn’t what Suzaku had expected to hear her yell. It was such an empty statement, so meaningless in the face of what they were witnessing, taking part in.  
Suzaku couldn’t be mistaken, he saw the same confusion pass over Lelouch’s face as did over his: “And what about them?”  
The words had been bitten out.  
“Does it even fucking matter?!”  
Suzaku had grabbed Lelouch’s attention again and suddenly everything went blank.  
He could remember Kallen crying somewhere behind him, yelling out something fearful about liquid Sakuradite.  
But it was only the muffled yell of his and Lelouch’s name which remained echoing in the cave a few minutes later.

\----------------------------

Keeping wings as a trophy was common. In the Kururugi household two pair of wings adorned the walls. The first ones were a family heirloom; they were ancient back in the day to Suzaku. Now he realized they were only 400 years old. His preceding family had apparently at one point been warring with an enemy clan, eventually both clan heads had decided to let their first born sons fight it out. His family had won and the trophy for such a feat had always been dewingment. Murdering was considered to not be honorable; taking a life was such a barbaric thing to do. Only the uneducated peoples from across the ocean did so, was believed. Thus as his enemy lay writhing and clamoring on the ground, the young Kururugi boy took out a gyuto and cut through roots upon roots of feathers. Blood spilled across the ground as family fathers forced their children to watch the scene. The Kururugi boy had been seated on the other boy’s arm as he did the becutment, the other arm flailing around wildly. Shame washed over the enemy clan’s people’s faces as they watched how their trophy boy lost his wings to a Kururugi. The yelling and screaming softened to cries and whimpers. The victor stood up, holding a pair of abalone colored wings proudly in his hands. The spills of blood were still visible even in its casing made of glass. His father always spoke with pride about the event. Suzaku had always supposed it was quite evidently something to indeed take pride in. His father had always spoken about the event as if it came directly from Japanese mythology, it was only years later that Suzaku realized it was simply a family folktale. 

The second pair of wings had been wings Suzaku had been given the honor to hang up himself. They were a deep blue, ‘Olympic blue’ his mother had once pointed out to him, and they had belonged to a Britannian officer. Suzaku had had nothing to do with his murder, because that was what it had been. Pride and honor were virtues long forgotten in the face of modern warfare regardless of his father’s views towards ancient family tales. Yet when his father had returned home he had granted his son the privilege of hanging them. A Britannian sigil had been branded in the crook of the right wing. It was commonplace for high-ranking Britannian officers to have their wings be branded, nearly mandatory. Those wings had also been the reason for Suzaku to ask Lelouch if he had remained in Britannia and joined the war if he would have his wings branded. While Lelouch swung his legs back and forth he replied that no, the royal family’s wings had to remain pure. Those blue wings had been the pride and joy of the Japanese forces for as long as they had been at war. They were a symbol, a symbol of strength for the Japenese forces led by his father. And Suzaku had hung them there. In their glass casing, the ‘Br’ letters written in elegant cursive fading a bit day by day. Or maybe that was due to the outside world seemingly becoming darker day upon day and shining less light into their house. Suzaku didn’t know. 

So really how could Suzaku not expect for Charles zi Britannia to look him right in the eyes and command him to cut Lelouch’s wings?

“No! Not my wings!”  
Even Suzaku’s throat felt dry at this command, the empty ‘Yes, your majesty’s which he had been uttering mindlessly up until this moment were stuck now.  
Lelouch seemed something akin to a rabies-infected animal with the way he was squirming in Suzaku’s hold.  
“Will you follow my command or not, Eleven?” the booming voice cut off Suzaku’s trail of thought and he gathered his bearings.  
“Yes, your majesty.”  
Suzaku smoothly grabbed his spring assisted pocket knife which every soldier was obligated to carry around with them at all times. Just for this occurrence.  
Lelouch screamed, yelled, cried out, not for mercy but for his wings.  
“You monster! You took my mother from me, now my wings?!”  
Then he turned to Suzaku: “You fucking traitor! Do you even have a soul?! You said I’d betray the world but you’d betray your own country for regalement! You fucking piece of shit, you never even deserved Euphemia!”  
The last part hurt. The last part hurt in a numb way, as if the words simply ricocheted of off him while still having left their mark.  
The emperor just looked on as his son thrashed around, pure rage fueling his futile actions. He continued looking on as Suzaku brought his knife to Lelouch’s back, closing in on Lelouch’s black-feathered roots.  
And just when Suzaku’s knife was to make contact-- “Stop.”  
Lelouch stopped his tirade and just like Suzaku stared at the man in front of him.  
“Leave his wings.”  
Suzaku expected Lelouch to heave a sigh in relief.  
He didn’t. 

\----------------------------

Julius Kingsley’s wings were abhorrent. Well, Suzaku supposed it were simply Lelouch’s wings but bedecked by sundry ornaments.  
The Britannian prince had never looked as royal as he did right now. Heels clicked on the floor as he walked, demanding attention and announcing his presence.  
The tips of his wings had been adorned with amethysts, thick threads held the stones as they hung gracefully from his feathers. They shone whenever the light passed through them and their brilliance had been amplified a thousand fold against the harsh backdrop of pitch-black wings littered with violet coloring. The ‘Br’ sigil had been faintly brandished on Lelo- Julius’s inner right wing: it was barely visible considering the dark feathers.  
Suzaku had an inkling of an idea that the ink used faded with feathers and time. The question regarding as to why Charles zi Britannia had decided to not permanently mark his traitor of a son lurked dangerously at the back of his mind, yet remained steadily hidden away in a bottommost corner of his psyche.  
Charles had had Lelouch’s wings groomed. The golden Britannian motif had been put on the backside of his wings; it held the meaning of loyalty to the Britannian empire. The same motif adorned his dress shirt all the way up to his collar, the same could be said for Suzaku’s garbs. The golden downward arrow seemingly faded into his back, an illusion of incompleteness in a sense. 

God, did the sight of those wings sicken Suzaku to his stomach.

If Lelouch had been dramatic, extravagant and a prima uomo then Julius was all of that exponentiated to the power of excellence. What Lelouch had done with ratty, ghetto terrorists, Julius did aided by the power of an empire. Zero had had numerous reasons to present himself as a helpless, impuissant man yet other situations had allowed him to show himself as a fearsome strong intimidating opponent. Julius would have none of that. He had exactly zero reasons to ever show weakness, it was power he was after and after all, with an outfit like Zero’s, Lelouch was the foremost man to know the true meaning of the phrase ‘dress for the job you want, not the one you have’. Julius Kingsley knew his wings were terrifying. Terrifyingly intimidating. They showcased a power unheard of in Europe, the featherless continent.  
Suzaku wondered if Julius, just like Lelouch, took pleasure in the frightened looks of fellow royals as he opened his wings. It was with a smirk that condescending offers left his lips with no signs of any remorse of what a death sentence he was offering the other person. It was also with his wings completely opened.  
Suzaku felt dishonorable as he bowed next to Lelouch while he swung his scepter around, his wings filling up the throne room. Charles had specifically ordered Suzaku to not open his wings under any circumstance and not prohibit any show Lelouch put up regarding his. A faint voice in Suzaku’s voice asked him if the past Suzaku would have grit his teeth at the fact that Julius Kingsley, a terrorist, a murderer, of the woman he loved might he add, was allowed to flaunt his superiority in the form of physical evidence while he had been forced to serve the man.  
Yet anger didn’t boil over in his systems every time Julius Kingsley threw himself at a throne as he languidly seated himself, surrounded by nobles forced to act by his hand. Mindless obedience was the only thing circulating in his mind. He could faintly remember Lelouch yelling at him about being the emperor’s lap dog, just before his memory erasure.

Oh, well.  
Woof.

Julius had a sharp tongue, it was something that irked Suzaku. It brought them in danger. Lelouch ostensibly had inhibitions. Julius did not. Command after command followed up by a snide remark seemed to be his standard way of speech. Suzaku patiently waited as he listened to Julius daringly beguiling Shin Hyuga Shaing to reply something just as crass.  
“If the way you involve yourself in chess is akin to your presence on the battlefield my lord Shaing, oh, must we worry?”  
A winged child with his Lancelot pilot babysitter is how the entire situation felt to Suzaku. He watched on as Shaing took it in stride and chose to move his rook five steps forward.  
“I assure you lord Kingsley, not as much as one must worry being the commander of the opposing army.”  
Lelouch would have gotten downright agitated by a remark such as that yet Kingsley seemed to remain poised and didn’t even bat an eye.  
Julius moved his bishop four squares.  
“I apologize for bringing up trivial matters, perhaps you’d prefer speaking about… more essential matters? The Ghosts of Hannibal for instance?”  
Tension didn’t shift, what an improvement from Zero’s persona, Suzaku could say.  
“Ah yes, what about them? They’re quite irksome.”  
“Lord Shaing… maybe it would be time to let go of your… useless attachments.”  
Shaing didn’t seem quite impressed by the words, Suzaku could only see the lord focusing more on the chess board as he mulled over his words: “Attachments? Lord Kingsley, everyone needs some of those, no?”  
Julius downright laughed. A hearty, deep-bellied laugh seemed to echo into the gigantic chamber.  
“Attachments? A necessity? Lord, forgive my forwardness but let’s not be weighed down by frivolous matters. How free could one be to do however they please when shouldering the burden of lives and responsibilities, how could one-”  
Truthfully, Suzaku knew it was happening before it truly did. The mere idea of being attached to another human being laid siege to his Geassed mind and Suzaku knew it was what caused the following breakdown. Suzaku felt no traces of pity as he stared at Kingsley- no, Lelouch now -writhing on the ground, screaming.  
It was only when he heard the broken murmur of ‘Nunnally’ that he sprung into action as Suzaku saw the eyes of Lord Shaing widening for a mere millisecond at the statement.

\----------------------------

It was only once Suzaku had to share a cell with Julius Kingsley that he realized how deep his despise for those wings truly ran. A constant ruffle of discomfort filled the space as the lord continuously ran his hand anxiously over his own feathers. Amethysts annoyingly clinked against one another with each stroke over the flat surface.  
Gasps for ‘water’ could every so often be heard but Suzaku had chosen to ignore them for the most part, their inconsistency making him wary of the truth attached to the plea. It was certainly not due to the person uttering the word, at least that was what the emperor should believe. As big and grand as Julius’s presence had been mere hours earlier as small and feeble it was now. It was wonderful how much power a smirk and a scepter had when compared to mere, stupid wings.  
Julius Kingsley was unstable. Guards would visit and the prince- commander? prisoner? -would either cower in fear or cockily stand up and slightly open his wings. Suzaku mused whether Gino would take pleasure in seeing the terrified faces of the guards as they stood face to face with a blessed of the west.  
The pleas climbed in audio level and Suzaku looked up when a particularly loud plea seeped into his ears. His wings had been propped up against a wall for at least three hours now. Kingsley had invited him to come over to stretch his wings just as many times. Kingsley or Lelouch? Maybe even Zero.  
It was without complaint that Suzaku stood up and grabbed the glass of water. A look of ecstasy washed over Julius’s face as he let out a sound in relief and hurriedly grabbed the glass while letting out a quick ‘thank you’.  
Amethysts clanked against one another in a seemingly happy manner now and the reverberation pierced through the air.  
It was with determination that Suzaku grabbed Kingsley’s neck. His fingers squeezed. Suzaku could nearly feel the skin underneath his nails breaking. He remembered Zero’s wings closing in on himself to protect him from that one fatal bullet. It was with that same enveloping sensation that Suzaku’s hands squeezed.  
This man had taken everything from him  
Suzaku’s wings tensed and the one blue lapis lazuli that the emperor had bestowed on him rattled harshly against Lelouch’s amethyst.  
As Julius Kingsley stared at him a lone tear escaped from his eye and rolled down his cheek whilst Suzaku loosened his hold.  
It was with a broken voice that Kingsley turned to him and said, with as much confidence as he could muster in that very moment: “H-Have I ever wronged you, sir Kururugi?”  
Suzaku felt saddened as he stared at the Britannian sigil engraved onto Lelouch’s right wing.

\----------------------------

The second Zero might have wings. While Lelouch, the first Zero, had spoken -read: ‘lied’- confidently about the suffering he had undergone due to being unblessed this Zero seemed to be rather coy when it came to the matter of his backside. In none of his speeches he would mention himself specifically as being unblessed, although he’d still be extremely vocal about the torment wingless people have to go through. It made Suzaku even more wary of the possibility of Lelouch being this second Zero. Because he was. Suzaku knew so. Was he? Gino didn’t think so. Perhaps, it isn’t- no, it has to be him.  
Consistency was a matter most exalted to Lelouch but not to Julius Kingsley, the man behind the mask might be Julius rather than Lelouch. Had Julius Kingsley been Zero would he have changed his tactic of suddenly being vague about his wings? But, Julius Kingsley had been Zero- no, it had been Lelouch. Charles zi Britannia had ordered Suzaku to let go of the Julius matter as if it hadn’t even occurred. It had been a plain and simple command, the man had even offered Suzaku to have his memories of the entire ordeal erased. Suzaku felt a quip of shame as he thought back at his hesitancy when he refused the offer. 

When Suzaku had seen Lelouch for the very first time again after unmasking him as Zero, because, really, Julius Kingsley had been… non-existent as per order.  
When he’d seen Lelouch again he was greeted with eyes filled with joy. A soft calm washed over Lelouch’s face as he approached his old childhood friend. Suzaku wished it was all a lie, it would certainly give him a reason to smash Lelouch’s face into the railing, watch it bleed out as he’d gasp for air, just like Kingsley had done, struggling, writhing,-  
But Suzaku just smiled back and put as much effort into avoiding getting truly acquainted with his old friend again.  
Rolo was nice, Suzaku supposed. His Geass was powerful, although Suzaku hadn’t been well informed on the matter, just that his Geass was advantageous to the mission. Lelouch had made a habit of it to always shield Rolo with his wing whenever they walked next to each other. It was a cute sight, all things considered. Rolo had some far off European blood, which of course meant he was born wingless, he’d once heard Viletta explain. This of course made him unfit to serve the Britannian royal family directly as unblessed were simply seen as unfit to pose as direct knights, being despised by God and all that, of course. Suzaku hoped that that Britannian mentality had never gotten through to Euphy. 

Suzaku looked on through the screen as Lelouch was laughing about something while shielding Rolo from the rain with his wing, Rolo seemed comfortable leaning into his ‘brother’s’ side. Suzaku would have to interrogate Rolo one of these days if he truly doesn’t feel any amicability towards the former rebellion leader. (After a controlled screaming fit from the other Suzaku could certainly confirm that, no, he does not feel any fondness for his stand-in family.)  
Whenever the Student Council would discuss the lie of the land, in particular Zero, Lelouch wouldn’t react much. He’d express support for Zero, of course as was expected, but wouldn’t elaborate too much on it. It truly seemed like Lelouch behavior, all things considered, really. Suzaku laid traps, of course he did. He’d ask Lelouch whether he thought Zero had wings or not and Lelouch would simply chuckle and ask whether a Knight of Round would truly base his report, which would be forwarded to the emperor, regarding a terrorist leader on a childhood friend’s assessment.  
Zero was growing in popularity and it truly worried Suzaku as he looked on as Lelouch was simply remaining at school. For as far as he knew of, of course. An augmentation in Zero’s behavior meant as much as amplification of the labor the Knights of Round had to perform. Anya, Gino and him particularly.  
Yet somehow Lelouch still found the time to pull on his heartstrings. 

“The Britannian motif suits you nicely,” Lelouch spoke. The words felt weird, honestly. Suzaku had always had the habit of complimenting Lelouch’s imposing, big wings, hearing comparable words of laud leaving his lips was quite bizarre.  
“Thank you,” Suzaku replied. Truthfully he usually forgot he had it, he hadn’t been allowed the Britannian sigil as he was still an Eleven but the motif was something granted to all the Knights of Round, regardless of ethnicity.  
“You, too, would look good with it,” he followed up, searching Lelouch’s face for traces of disgust.  
“Me?” he asked innocently.  
“I really think I wouldn’t, I’m not a knight or anything. Suzaku, I was already nervous simply talking to that viceroy of yours!” Suzaku had to physically fight off the reaction he had to that last phrase and he faintly wondered if Lelouch’s light snicker was because of the ambiance or his way of being condescending because of Suzaku’s narrowed eyes.  
God, the memories that one sentence seemed to bring right up to the forefront of his mind. Julius Kingsley’s gold adorned back with those gigantic wings which were now neatly tucked away. The pure arrogance that lord Kingsley oozed compared to this meek excuse of a student. Suzaku truly wished he could say he preferred this version of Lelouch but this version gave him fewer reasons to smash his head in.  
And that is when Rolo excitedly patted into the room calling for Lelouch. Rolo gave him a wary look as Lelouch happily turned around and placated his brother. Yes, of course, Lelouch not only had to remain harmless but also very much alive.  
What a fucking bummer. 

\----------------------------

Suzaku really goddamn wished he could have said he was surprised when Lelouch revealed himself to be Zero but at this point he was quite fed up with the entire charade everyone had been putting up and thus he decided to just plainly show off his apathy.  
Kicking Lelouch’s face into the gravel felt good, though. 

\----------------------------

Lelouch’s emperor clothes were snow white. His demonlike wings were such a contrast to his attire that Suzaku wondered whether beauty could be found in contracts. In such a case his and Lelouch’s story would be a fairy tale.  
Would his own milk white wings be as beatific when put against the piercing black of Zero’s garbs?  
Lelouch beckoned Suzaku over from the shadows.  
“It’s time.”  
Suzaku nodded.  
Their footsteps echoed with an empty noise through the hallways as they passed several guards. None of them their eyes met Suzaku, neither his eyes nor his body, the question of whether the Geass had prohibited them to even sense his very being seemed redundant.  
Just as he glided by C.C did he catch a glimpse of her curious yet bored gaze. Her fingers were gingerly grasping around a door’s casing, to Lelouch’s chambers. She gave him a small nod and Suzaku only paused for a second as she turned around and closed the door behind her.  
Lelouch didn’t falter for a second and a command to not be distracted just managed to reach Suzaku’s ears before he was already carrying out the task.  
It was the lowering of the temperature that notified Suzaku of their arrival rather than the true action of it. It was a Britannian feat that churches, regardless of their location, would always feel colder than any other place around it.  
Maybe it were the cool stones and emotionlessly structured pews that gave off such an atmosphere. Even surrounded by the warm castle walls, the emperor’s personal place of religion felt as if encased in ice.  
Lelouch stepped inside without bothering to look behind him.  
Suzaku followed wordlessly. 

It was a small church; mosaics covered the glass-tainted windows, depicting several biblical stories, one of which he recognized to be Revelations 12. Suzaku guessed Lelouch didn’t know, he’d never been the religious type.  
“Do you wish to pray before we commence, Suzaku?”  
Suzaku looked up and stared at the quite large cross in front him. Candles illuminated it and Lelouch himself had taken to going down on his knees, yet rather than having his hands in a prayer he left them in his lap.  
Suzaku shook his head: “I’d rather not.”  
A soft hum escaped Lelouch’s throat and Suzaku was sure he was not mistaken when he heard Lelouch’s voice faltering as he spoke next: “Then please… proceed to undress and get on your knees.”  
Lelouch stood up and stared wordlessly at Suzaku as he removed his garbs. A remnant of his previous cape was the first to be unbuckled and fall swiftly to the ground, followed by the soundless action of removing his shirt as it slid over his wings.  
Lelouch nodded: “This suffices.”  
It was without further prompting that Suzaku haltingly lowered himself to his knees. Even through the fabric of his trousers he could feel the limestone biting into his knees, his core numbing at the touch. The rustling of Lelouch’s garments was the only noise accompanying his descent as his chest went fully down until it touched the floor.  
Suzaku couldn’t remember whether he had his hands in a prayer. Frankly, he didn’t care regardless of what he’d done in that very moment. 

The recognizable sonancy of the unhinging of a knife’s spring filled the space. Suzaku felt soft warm drops spill onto his back. He hadn’t heard anything from Lelouch himself.  
A soft fragrance of blood reached his nose, fitting, a metallic aroma for a metallic sound. And perhaps a metallic action, to some.  
Suzaku thought of Euphemia as Lelouch’s knees touched the space besides him. How her white dresses would flow around her as she put flowers in her hair. On occasion in his hair. It was with fondness that memories of her smile reverberated through his mind. Her optimistic view of the world had always been his favorite thing about her, how she looked at the world as if it was something to be treasured regardless of her own, or her family’s, ambitions. The world had been a polished diamond to her, an object to be admired, to be stared at in awe rather than a mere item to wish to have ownership over.  
Suzaku wondered whether it was unhealthy that he thought of the one sole night he had spent with Euphemia as Lelouch’s hand travelled up his spine, his fingers walking from one vertebrae to the next. Her hands had slowly explored his body, moving experimentally from up his sides to his ribs up to his shoulders. She’d been so different from Lelouch, her brother. Her shyness had been a part of her beauty as both of them had timidly laughed at the entire situation.  
Lelouch had reached his roots. Maybe Euphemia would have spoken a soft prayer in a situation just like this. Maybe Lelouch had seldom send orisons up the sky before battles. It was without humor that Suzaku decided that of course he hadn’t.  
Euphemia had spoken about angels without wings, spoken about how whatever god there was, he had blessed her without wings, otherwise she would’ve never fallen into his arms. What a beautiful thought. God blesses those without wings.  
It had been his saying, the idea that happiness is like glass: just shift your perspective.  
And so he, with remorse clouding his heart, looked up at the stained glass window of Lucifer being cast from heaven as he felt a knife pierce through his wings.

\----------------------------

If anyone ever asked Suzaku how he’d gotten himself caught up in this situation he’d laugh heartily in their face. A hollow, faceless laugh is the only thing he could offer because, truly, how would he explain the situation of having the Emperor of Britannia, Zero, his childhood friend, propped up against a wall after a promise of intertwined fate? It was in between gasps and moans for air that he could hear Lelouch muttering soft words: “Suzaku… this… this is…”  
“It’s goodbye,” Suzaku finished for him curtly, throwing him onto the bed.  
And as Suzaku was discarding his shirt he could see Lelouch chuckling.  
“A goodbye from Lelouch to Suzaka and vice versa? I never pegged you as the poetic type.”

Sex felt like the only natural goodbye to ever occur between them. It was as Suzaku grabbed Lelouch’s back that he thought back to the days of them frolicking through grass fields. As Lelouch grasped his biceps forcefully he bit down on the crook between the emperor’s neck and shoulder.  
A puppy crush had been what it was, comparable to what Gino felt towards Kallen, to what Rivalz felt towards Shirley, to what Lelouch had always felt towards the obliteration of Britannia yet this was the crescendo of the orchestra for both Lelouch’s and Suzaku’s crush. It had been Lelouch’s rosy cheeks, well spoken words and persuasive personality which had made a ten year old Suzaku hold his hand hesitantly as Lelouch grasped it tighter, unwitting of the underlying emotions which tumbled around in his stomach. 

Suzaku could feel a very mature and very grown up Lelouch fumble around with his zipper and Suzaku decided that he didn’t wish to play around; harshly he grabbed Lelouch’s dress shirt and ripped open the first buttons.  
Lelouch’s eyes widened ever so slightly yet changed his course of action and now focused on getting rid of the unnecessary piece of clothing. As the shirt was tossed aside, ripped apart over Lelouch’s wings, Lelouch moaned softly as Suzaku’s lips attached itself to his collarbone.  
From the corner of his eyes Suzaku could see Lelouch opening his wings, widening and widening along with his suction.  
And Suzaku returned the gesture, his feathers unfolding softly underneath Lelouch’s touch.  
It was when Suzaku released the now purple patch of skin that they finally made eye contact. It was one of the first moments of uncertainty either of them had encountered when it came to the other since the start of their arrangement. 

A pivotal point in their childhoods had been love. Nunnally had met a boy, a farmer’s son. He had been her age, his father was blind and thus he perfectly knew how to communicate with her respectfully. Lelouch despised him of course. It was when Lelouch and Suzaku had been quietly enjoying an afternoon of watching the two interacting from atop a tree that meanings started to form. The boy had had Nunnally safely under his arm as he read her a story, Alice in Wonderland, had it been not?  
When suddenly Nunnally opened her wings as he blew a raspberry atop her head. Suzaku had never seen Lelouch sprint as fast as he had then. With a yell he aggressively pushed the boy away from her. While the little lad was confusedly processing what had just happened, Suzaku stared in just as much bewilderment at Lelouch scolding Nunnally as him. It had been with red cheeks and an embarrassed pout that Lelouch clambered back into the tree a few minutes later.  
“What’d that been about?”  
Lelouch spluttered: “Y-You don’t know?!”  
Suzaku shrugged, he and Lelouch read together often enough, their limbs entangled. What had the hassle been about?  
“H-Her wings!” Suzaku honestly wondered whether Lelouch genuinely thought that was any clarification.  
When yet another puzzled look met Lelouch he groaned.  
“W-Well Suzaku, when- ugh, put that stupid book down!” Suzaku actually started getting humored by this situation, Lelouch’s bashful face was quite the sight.  
“W-When two people are, like, really in love they’ll- um, their wings. They’ll open them. It’s like, this love thing. True love thing.”  
Suzaku’s mouth now formed an ‘oh’ shape. Now that Lelouch mentioned it, it did seem to be a Britannian thing. He often saw it on TV how Britannian couples would open their wings whenever a lovey-dovey scene came up, blegh.  
“Is it really that impactful?”  
“Yes!” Lelouch exclaimed.  
It was rare for Lelouch to get anxious yet if he ever was the telltale sign was the fumbling of his fingers, just as he was doing now: “My father, rumor has it he’s never opened his wings for any of the court ladies. Aside from Anastasia, of course, first lady and all that. Odysseus’s mother. She died.”  
“So, like, he never did it again?”  
Lelouch shook his head: “Opening your wings is a true love thing. It’s not- necessarily reserved for one lone person but it’s-”  
Suzaku stared at Lelouch as he looked back at Nunnally: “It’s special, I guess.”  
“That’s so cool, Lelouch!” Suzaku proclaimed, “I don’t think we have such a wing thing in Japan.”  
“Ah, it’s not that cool…” Lelouch replied.

Yet as an 18-year-old emperor Lelouch looked up at him it did seem to be something one could define as ‘cool’.  
Suzaku had opened his wings for Euphemia, she’d looked on in wonder as her hands glided across the feathers. Her warm touch seemingly melted the cold from his feathers, her fingers being such a loving sensation. And now he’d done the same for Lelouch.  
And they stared. Lelouch stared at Suzaku’s wings as Suzaku stared at his. The implications clear, unspoken yet so ear deafeningly loud. Suzaku asked himself at the back of his mind if maybe even C.C. could hear it.  
Suzaku’s throat felt dry as he saw Lelouch’s hand move cautiously towards his wing. The Knight closed his eyes and let out a sigh as Lelouch’s ice cold hand made contact with his wing. His touch was so cold. It was harsh, inelegant, everything Zero wasn’t seemed to be conveyed in that touch. Everything that wasn’t Zero that still resides within Lelouch had to leave tonight so it could only be seen as a predictable move. 

“They’re beautiful,” the words seemed to float in the air. 

Lelouch had to shut up. Without hemming and hawing Suzaku placed his lips onto Lelouch’s. His hips grinded up into the emperor’s pelvis. Lelouch had always been a man of senses, wishing to look, listen, feel, taste, maybe even hurt. Suzaku’s desire right now was to block every single one of those: sight, hearing, taste, and nociception among others. He could feel the other’s lips slowing down, Suzaku was fully aware of the fact that Lelouch’s instincts told him to glance at Suzaku. But Lelouch’s eyes were violet. His eyes were violet just like Euphemia’s. The color held an innocence that Suzaku didn’t want to be tainted by his identity. Geass had already sullied Euphemia’s last glimpses of life, Lelouch mustn’t add onto that.  
God, what a hypocrite he was. Refusing to indulge Lelouch yet using his body as a last goodbye. Suzaku couldn’t convince himself his eyes didn’t hold demons even if his body didn’t. Integrity had never been either one of them their strong suits.  
Lelouch’s icy touch was now trailing down his back and then, by putting his hands down them, slowly glided his trousers off. It felt ridiculous as Suzaku helped Lelouch shimmy his slacks off but the rewarded added sense of touch was enough to validate the situation. Suzaku returned the favor and he idly wondered how much money lay on the ground right now. Lelouch’s emperor robes alone were worth more than the entire Black Knight’s start off funds, a fact regrettably and offhandedly provided by Lelouch mere days ago. Suzaku’s own knight costume could not be viewed as a drop in the bucket, all things considered. Perhaps if Suzaku’s mind had been on the task at hand he’d have foreseen Lelouch biting down quite aggressively on his bottom lip and it was with a slight startle that he backed off. 

“Suzak-”  
“Stop talking!”  
Lelouch seemed wounded by the words in a way, kind of.  
“Suzaku,” Lelouch softly cupped his face in his hands, “if it helps… I am Euphemia’s brother, you can imagine for me to be her. I’ve used you enough, maybe it’s time for you to use me.”  
“But you’re not. And I don’t want you to be,” in all honesty Suzaku was this close to crying, “I want to say goodbye to my childhood best friend. I want to bide him a farewell, but I don’t know how gracious I can be towards the killer of my lover, how gracious I can be to the totalitarian head of state of the empire he’d always sworn to destroy. I don’t know, Lelouch.”  
Lelouch seemed to take pity on him as he tightened his hold on Suzaku’s jaw slightly: “Suzaku… Euphy’s murderer… he is already dead. Tonight, here, right now, I am your childhood friend, and you are mine. Let’s discard knight and emperor… as I said, a goodbye from Lelouch to Suzaku and vice versa. Look me in the eyes.”  
And Suzaku did, as painful as it might have been, Euphemia’s violet shining brightly.  
“These eyes… they’re not Euphy’s, that was your choice to make and you refused, just a moment ago. Now you can choose whose they are, but might I suggest… might I suggest Lelouch vi Britannia’s?”  
And that meant he’d have to come to terms with the fact that Lelouch was human. Wings and all, he was human. It was so much easier to call Lelouch a demon, a monster. Actively calling the murderer of Euphemia a human felt… disgraceful. Yet here Lelouch was, cradling his face and asking him to view him as a human for one last time.  
“How will you see me then, Lelouch? As the man that dragged you in front of your father?” he nearly spat out the last words.  
Lelouch patted his hair: “No. I see you as the boy that once flew so hard into me that you got me to chase you in the air.”  
Suzaku chuckled at the memory. 

And so Lelouch let his hands slowly glissade downwards over Suzaku’s naked chest: “Let us be, for one night, lovers. Let us…” and Lelouch breathed out and fixed his gaze upon Suzaku’s again: “be.”  
And so Suzaku did, he took Lelouch into his arms. Because it was Lelouch. It was Lelouch with ebony colored hair, with violet eyes, with long slender fingers that trailed his body desperate for contact and with a shared past. Their shared past.  
It felt relieving to have had that conversation as if the vengeful part of Suzaku’s psyche had let loose of its weapon, sighed and claimed defeat. Suzaku enveloped Lelouch in his arms as they kissed, if felt meaningful now. Suzaku opened his wings and shielded Lelouch in them, from whatever danger. C.C. was the emperor’s shield, he the emperor’s sword yet he’d be Lelouch’s armor. Suzaku felt the tips of his fathers brush Lelouch’s roots. Where Lelouch started Suzaku would end, their wings had told that story too numerous a time.  
So that night with labored breaths Suzaku kissed down Lelouch’s skin as the other did the same. Their names mingling in the air as foreboding doom tingled at the tips of their fingers. Lelouch would lean back and stare as the painting of blues and purples that had been left behind on his skin, ‘you’re beautiful’s blended together in the night with ‘don’t let go’s.  
A consummation of Zero Requiem. Yes, that was what it was. Lelouch’s skin went from repulsive to a map, a map where Suzaku could lay down his route. Suzaku noticed how Lelouch’s gaze had never held vengeance while looking at him even as Suzaku bit down a wound that Suzaku had brought onto Julius Kingsley, merely accepted with a soft ‘Don’t stop, please’.  
The night wasn’t endless, nor did it seem like it, regardless of what fairytales would make one believe. The moon’s gaze was glaring and the pitter-patter of rain that drummed against the window seemed to be an orchestra accompanying a play whose ending was inevitable yet dreaded.  
Their last hoorah was a simple cacophony of arduous panting. Neither said the l-word nor would say it. It’d be a lie. Because Suzaku loved what they had pretended to be tonight: childhood friends bidding goodbye. He could never love the man responsible for Euphy’s murder and neither could Lelouch love the sole person he’d trusted and betrayed him numerous times. Love was not on the tip of either of their tongues but forgiveness might have been. At least that’s what Suzaku sought to believe as Lelouch smiled fondly up at him and uttered a soft goodnight, in Japanese. The emperor grabbed Suzaku’s arm and pulled it towards him as he turned to lie on his side. Suzaku stared as he watched Lelouch tuck his wings in very carefully, pulling them perpendicularly to his body. 

“Knight,” Suzaku breathed in at the form of address, “do... do as knights do their royals and shield me.”  
Thus Suzaku did. He took the emperor in his arms and opened his wings carefully. Everything underneath the canopy bed now became enveloped in white as black had once. The small safe wing enveloped space in which they found themselves now felt warm. It was dark and warm and safe and it felt like home, like family. It felt as if this had been where they had belonged all this time. The two of them enveloped in darkness as the rest of the world stared at a brilliant, enlightening white. As the Zero Requiem dictated. 

\----------------------------

And it was with a shout of victory that Zero’s cloak was ripped from him, showcasing a flattened back as both Japanese and English cheers reverberated through the air. Nunnally was hunched over brother’s body, her onyx-darkened wings taking in the white empirical garbs.  
And Suzaku looked on as the crowd condemned Lelouch’s body, he stared as the cacophony of “Zero! Zero! Zero!’ surrounded him.  
He continued to stand tall as he watched a former Black Knights parade around with Lelouch’s black wings. No amethysts adorned them, neither a Br-sigil or Britannian motif had the disgraceful pleasure of being showcased upon demon’s wings.  
Yet as Nunnally cried out, clutched her brother’s corpse and screamed for them to return his wings to her, as he held his sword proudly in the air and yelled out: “The demon emperor is no longer!”.  
Yet the only thought and expression he could find was a soft smile and the thought that he’d never seen more beautiful wings in his entire life.


End file.
